


Born for Her, Destined for You

by Balletismyobsession



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:58:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6292516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Balletismyobsession/pseuds/Balletismyobsession
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine had barely uttered his first cry when he was paired with the girl who would be his queen. He’s been raised to expect it his entire life, and when he takes the throne at eighteen the chemistry between them seems natural, something Blaine would be content with for the rest of his life. Until he meets the confident and beautiful Kurt, who turns everything he thought he wanted upside down. A tricky proposition brings them closer, but as feelings grow stronger they find that desires and morals conflict.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2015 Blaine Anderson Big Bang. My first submission for it, and I’d like to rework this at some point and flesh out more details and in general make it better, but I’m fairly happy with it overall. I have ideas for the sequel written down that I’ll hopefully be starting in the next couple of weeks (I'll post some spoilers for that at the end!). 
> 
> Artwork can be found here: http://bit.ly/1Rr8Zro

“And do you so swear to take the oath of kingship and do your duty to oversee the administration of justice, uphold the Kingdom of Warbler’s laws, protect your people, and establish order and keep peace in the realm, by force if necessary?”

“I so swear.”

“Then I hereby crown Blaine Devon Anderson, first of his name, with all rights and duties of his father before him, King Thomas Alexander Anderson—may he rest in peace. Henceforth shall you be known as King.”

*********

It had been less than a year since Blaine had ascended the throne after his father’s death, and every day he still felt that he was both meant for the title and also that there had to be someone out there more suited to this than him. He was the youngest king in half a century since taking the throne at eighteen, and though he’d been being prepared his entire life growing up a prince, he had a hard time trusting his instincts. He’d known since birth that he’d been aligned with a princess from a neighboring land but until their wedding day, he’d known only her name.

She was seventeen and where he was insecure and at times felt ill-prepared to be king, Rachel Berry was outspoken and confident in her duties. She quickly grew to be his most trusted ally and confidant, often speaking on his behalf as regent when he could not attend discussions, though her main joy was being a socialite in planning feasts, balls, seasonal parties, and other celebrations whenever she could. She took great pride in singing and often performed at parties. Blaine would perform with her at times, though most nights he let her take the front line. He had enough people staring at him throughout the day to gladly pass the spotlight onto her. Their grandest ball to date, other than his coronation or their wedding day, had been for the announcement of Rachel’s pregnancy. With the duties and policies to go over and traveling when needed, there had been even more pressure to produce an heir than to see to the kingdom’s needs. At least, that’s how it felt to Blaine. The day after their wedding, councilmen had spoken to them both about carrying on the lineage, especially with Blaine being his father’s only living heir after his older brother’s–Cooper’s–death when plague struck the land. They were expected to produce an heir as soon as possible, and Blaine shuddered to remember the embarrassing first night with his queen. When the months began to drag by with the queen yet to show signs of pregnancy, they’d both been subjected to weekly sessions with the kingdom’s physician to ensure their health. During the next month, the king’s bedchambers became a bit more crowded as the physician from their kingdom and a few from other kingdoms watched as they were intimate to make sure the king was in good physical health and finished correctly. It was humiliating. Blaine could barely look in Rachel’s eyes to see his flushed face reflected back at him and having to pretend that they were the only ones in the room often turned the task into a dreaded daily duty rather than a pleasurable experience. He often turned away as soon as he’d finished, the shame creeping into his features and contorting his initial desire into disgust. What kind of a man was he if he could not carry on his lineage in the most basic human function?

But he enjoyed Rachel’s company. Her personality was so different from his own, and she was a beautiful girl. He couldn’t have asked for much more in a queen, especially from an arranged marriage. Sometimes he felt that their intimate moments together were more out of necessity than true desire for each other. But he did love her, and that love was magnified when she finally became pregnant. Though he was very thankful that the physician recommended not being intimate until they could be sure of Rachel’s condition. He told himself it was relief for not having to be watched in a way that felt so degrading, and at first that was true.

“Do you not want to touch me, Blaine?” Rachel asked one night, the flickering candles above the only source of light in the room.

He’d pulled her close, resting his chin on her the top of her head. “Of course I do.” He’d kissed her hair. “Of course, but you know what the physician said.”

“That was before,” she’d said, moving her hand to her stomach and sitting up to look at him. “It was only a precaution earlier. Your child grows inside me, there’s no doubting that.”

She’d looked so forlorn and then her expression changed and she’d stared down at her naked body, the covers bunching around her thighs. Blaine had sat up, reaching over to cover her hand with his own and felt himself smiling too, in spite of his fears. Her stomach was small, but noticeably curved in the low light. His child. He’d wondered if his father felt this way when his mother had carried him inside her. His heart had fluttered with excitement, pride, anxiety, and terror. Once he produced a male heir he would be scrutinized less, he would be happier, he would be taken seriously as the rightful king. His life would be better when his child was born. But now he had to protect this growing child and the woman who would deliver it, and that meant being more cautious.

“I can’t. I want to, I do, but I what if something happens? I can’t hurt you. Or the baby. What if I hurt the best thing that’s happened to me?” He’d shaken his head, his hands slipping from Rachel’s.

She’d looked up, her lashes full and fluttering in the light, placing her palm on his cheek. “I promise nothing bad will happen. But as your queen it is my duty to uphold your wishes. And I won’t fight you on this matter.”

A smile had twitched at his mouth, and then he’d kissed her. Though she could be a handful and often overly pushy in her demands, she knew when he was troubled and seemed to know what to say to calm him.

“You will be a great father,” she’d whispered, bringing his hand up to brush against her cheek. “And a great king.”


	2. Chapter 2

The kingdom’s alliance with Dalton, a country to the east of Warbler, began to crumble in the passing months. Blaine had been preparing to celebrate his nineteenth birthday, a celebration that needed to be delayed so that he could travel to Dalton and speak with King Sebastian Smythe to try to rework their agreements. With the winter months fast approaching, rampant food shortages, disarray amongst the commoners, and whispers of sickness spreading across the sea, it was imperative to reaffirm Dalton’s cooperation. The last thing Blaine needed was to go to war. There had been hard negotiations and the stress of it all was wearing him down. But it finally seemed like they were able to come to an agreement.

When Blaine returned from his journey, Rachel welcomed him home with open arms. The trip had taken not more than a few months, but he felt as though he’d been gone for much longer. Rachel’s billowing gowns and silken wraps did not disguise her pregnancy now. Blaine was hit with a sudden anxiety that gripped his chest, though he hid it with a wide smile to his wife.

“It’s good to have you home,” she said, wrapping him in a hug.

He pressed their foreheads together, feeling the warmth of her skin on his. “I’ve missed you.” He motioned to his servants, who followed them inside and took his winter travel cloak to be washed. After they’d been served lunch, he took Rachel’s hand and waved the servants away, wishing to go to his bedchambers and hoped to sleep comfortably for the first time in a while.

Blaine undressed and drew a cloth out of the bucket on the other side of the room while Rachel sat on the bed. “How have you been in my absence?” Blaine asked as he began to wipe down his body. The warm water had been brought up at his request and it felt wonderful after his time away and relaxed his sore muscles.

“I had a few audiences with commoners and met with multiple farmers. The frost is damaging crops, but we’ve set aside funds to hand out if need be and our trading with Westerville is strong. Our people will survive, just as we have and our parents before us.” She paused for a while, letting him think over that and when he did not speak, she continued. “I’ve had to have many dresses made. I seem to grow out of them quickly,” she laughed. “And we still have to celebrate your birthday. The kingdom has been awaiting your return. And who knows, if we wait a bit, maybe we could celebrate your birthday and the birth of our child at the same time?”

He smiled then, the image flashing in his mind of a baby in his arms. Maybe he or she would get his dark curls. Or Rachel’s beautiful singing voice. He toweled himself dry and sat next to his wife, his hands immediately caressing her stomach.

“He’s kicking often,” she said softly as his hands moved over the curve and flattened out the fabric of her dress. He drew the hem of her dress up higher, pushing the soft velvet up until she took the bulk of it in her hand so he could move his fingers over her bare skin. His tiredness from travel had nothing to do with his silence now, palms pressing on the side of her stomach and he leaned over to lay his head there too. He kissed the top of her stomach, then rested his ear against the curve. Maybe it was her heartbeat or his own pulsing in his ears, but he hoped that the steady thumping he heard was that of their unborn child. Rachel’s hand threaded gently through his hair, pushing back the wet curls. He pulled his head up and kissed her, drawing her close to his body and holding her tightly, almost unable to believe that the still growing baby within her was one that they had made together. “The physician says I’m doing beautifully. We should have our son here in less than three months. You’ll have an heir.”  
Her voice was soft and melodic, putting him at ease. She was healthy, and so was their baby. He hoped they would have a son and it seemed she did too, with how often she referred to their child as a boy. Blaine missed her when he was away, her company and her calm words and her body beside him as they slept at night. He laid back, exhausted and happy to be back in his own bed with his wife.

*********

“We can’t put your birthday ball off much longer,” Rachel commented a few days later while brushing out her hair. Blaine looked up from his papers, setting aside his quill. “A baby and a birthday ball is a lot to handle at once. We should throw the ball before he arrives.”

“Are you sure we can do all that?” Blaine’s brow furrowed, and he bit his lip. “There’s so much going on…”

Rachel turned in her chair. “Blaine,” she batted her lashes, and he knew she already had ideas spinning in her head to make this the grandest affair yet. “It’s a celebration of our baby, and of you. And the kingdom needs some distractions, if you ask me.”

He felt the smile cross his face. “As long as you don’t wear yourself out. Socialite or not, you can’t be stressing yourself over this.”

“We’ll have it in the winter, before the year is over. Two months to prepare is plenty of time. It’ll be small, I promise.”


	3. Chapter 3

The day of his birthday ball finally arrived amongst rushing to plan and deal with foreign relations and frozen crops. As Blaine descended the stairs from his room he realized quickly that his and Rachel’s ideas of small were very, very different. She’d left hours ago to get ready, so she wouldn’t “spoil the surprise,” and had a servant bring up what he was to wear tonight. He’d been dressed this royally on only two occasions: his coronation and his wedding day. Even then, he thought his wedding day attire had been more subdued. But truthfully he didn’t mind the fashion, and even enjoyed how it made him look. Tonight he wore close-fitting breeches, an ermine-trimmed, short, dark blue cloak which complimented his dark curls and olive skin, and a tight waistcoat, tunic, and gathered sleeves that highlighted his narrow waist and gave his upper body a graceful quality. The rounded toe, black leather shoes were thankfully the same pair he’d worn in previous settings like this, so they were broken in enough that he wouldn’t be hobbling by the end of the night. His crown had been shined for the occasion, the jewels glimmering in the low light. He would be expected to wear it all night, although it was heavy and–to his eyes, at least–never seemed to sit right atop his curls. 

He was halfway down the stairs, adjusting the shining toggle on his waistcoat, when he heard the billowing of laughter and music from the great hall. And he had to roll his eyes and groan. He should’ve known by the state of his dress that Rachel had more than just an intimate gathering in mind. Taking a breath, he stood up a little taller and made his way to the door. The guard greeted him, knocked on the ajar door, and waited. The guard on the inside made an announcement and the noise dipped and then ceased. A minute longer and the door was opened, accompanied by the announcement of his presence—as though it needed to be made—and he paused to hold his arm out for Rachel. She was beaming as she took it. Her floor-length dress was the same deep blue of his cloak and draped beautifully over her obvious pregnancy. Her sleeves were long, but small slashes in the arms let slivers of her pale skin show through. There was a shining gold chain and pendant at her throat, sparkling wonderfully in the flickering light. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw her.

They walked arm in arm down the row of guests, Blaine nodding to those who wished him congratulations, until finally they reached the door at the other side of the Great Hall. He turned and cleared his throat. “Thank you to all who have made the journey to be here tonight. It gives me great joy to share my home with so many of our family and friends old and new. We invite you now to join us in dinner, and to afterwards continue the celebration here in the Great Chamber, where there will be dancing and dessert.” His voice rang out powerful and clear in the large room, and he was met with gentle applause. When he turned back around, the doors opened and they were escorted into the Great Hall, where it had been decorated extravagantly. He gave Rachel a side-eyed glance, who just shrugged and smiled.

They were seated at the head of the very large table that sat on a low platform, with smaller tables off to the sides. Blaine reached up to straighten his crown, something he knew he’d be doing all night lest it fall off. Bustling friends and family came streaming in, all smiles and excitement and the feast of the night was presented once everyone was seated. Gasps of awe filled the room as much as the company, and platter upon platters of food were brought out. The king and queen were served first, and, as the center-piece, an entire roast peacock was presented with blooming plumage accompanied by scattered honey-glazed and roasted dates. There were roasted and stuffed goats, hens, and pigeons, and salted pig, and meat pies, cheese in decorative slices, hard boiled eggs covered with saffron and flavored with cloves, stuffing and many different sauces, and loaves of fresh bread and cream. Water and wine overflowed at every table, and soon laughter and chatter filled the air. 

“You really didn’t have to do all this,” Blaine remarked between courses. “But thank you for doing it.”

Rachel looked over, that smile back on her lips. “I wanted to. For you, for us. Tonight is celebrating you and all you do for your kingdom.”

Surveying the guests for a moment, he glanced back worriedly. “The extra food will be distributed, right? To the freemen and the peasants? And the serfs?”

He felt a hand on his arm, and he relaxed. “Of course. Just as you decreed it. Besides,” she laughed, “I know you’d distribute it yourself if you had to.”

“I just want to keep them safe. I don’t want anyone to suffer, if I can help it.”

Her tone dropped to a serious note. “I know. You can’t help everyone. But you do so much good.”

He nodded, released her hand as his glass of wine was refilled and he was presented with stewed dandelion greens in a fragrant sauce. Most of his time was spent entertaining those who approached him, and many guests did. The majority simply wanted to wish him a happy birthday and hope for the safe birth of their first child, but a few wished to discuss politics or other subjects that weighed heavily on his mind. When Baron Sam finally departed, Blaine turned back to Rachel and she saw immediately the stress on his face. He looked exhausted. “There’s rumors of sickness in McKinley. That’s not too far from here.”

She ran a hand on his arm soothingly. “We’ve been hearing rumors like those for months and everything’s turned out fine. It won’t be anything like the plague.”

“How do you know that? What if it’s worse than anyone’s letting on? What if we can’t keep it out?”

She took his face in her hands. “Shh… King Blaine, this is your birthday dinner. Not a time to worry.” Her face turned sympathetic. “You cannot cleanse the very air. If the sickness comes here, there will have been nothing you could do to stop it. Do not dwell on what has yet to come, if it will at all.”

He sighed, closed his eyes for a moment. He knew she was right.

It was not a moment too soon in Blaine’s opinion when the tinkling bell chimed out the end of dinner. Plates and food were whisked away and guests were invited to make their way to the Great Chamber. As was customary, Rachel and Blaine were the first couple to dance. They stayed in the middle of the expansive floor, swaying to the gentle music as the normal twirling and spinning made Rachel nauseated. Once the music faded, Blaine waved his hand, smiling at his guests, and welcomed them on the dance floor as well. Rachel squeezed his arm and left him to move about the room, talking in an excited voice to family members who had travelled to be here. Blaine was quiet as he walked around the perimeter, taking in the decoration he hadn’t noticed before. It was more subdued here than in the dining room, the candles glowing overhead and making the golden forged decor shimmer. In lieu of flowers in the winter season, blown glass jars were placed on waist-high tables and filled with ostrich feathers and holly branches. More candles were scattered about the tables, a warming and drowsy effect coming over Blaine the more time he spent in the room. Maybe it was the wine.

“King Blaine.” He turned, and saw a woman bowing before him. She wore a dark purple dress, her black hair done up intricately. “May I have this dance?”

He cleared his throat, his royal training immediately kicking into gear. “I’d be honored, Miss…?”

“Miss Mercedes Jones,” she smiled and took the hand Blaine offered her. They joined the others still dancing, and Blaine soon found himself in an endless line of offers. He’d barely finish with one song before he was propositioned by another young woman. There were so many others on the floor dancing as well, he wondered how he kept being found amongst everyone else. The candles were flickering low when to Blaine’s relief, dessert was announced. He was grateful to stand still while the large table was piled with strawberries, plums stewed in rose water, sweet pastries, dates, cheese, and mulled wine. He popped a strawberry in his mouth and had his goblet refilled with wine for something to sip on while he leaned against the wall. He let his eyes wander about the room, his gaze finally settling on a flash of green in the crowd. There were many people here that he did not know in person, though some drew more attention to themselves than others. This man was hard to miss. He had his hand on another man’s shoulder, laughing so hard his eyes were scrunched shut. His figure was lithe, the outfit accentuating his narrow hips and tall frame. His hair was a beautiful chestnut color, the low light bringing out dark reddish tones. When he straightened up, he removed his hand and spoke to the man, though at that moment Blaine’s staring was interrupted by yet another woman asking to dance. He tore his gaze away and set his cup down, following her to the floor. 

By the time Blaine had a moment to himself, the man was long gone. He’d craned his neck to search but there were just too many people, too many outfit colors. He sighed and escaped to a passageway, his mouth aching from smiling so much. He was having fun, truly, but being in the spotlight was Rachel’s forte. The passageway was short, leading to stairs that would drop him off at the second story balconies that overlooked the Great Chamber. The three balcony overhangs had been draped with burgundy and navy silks, the centermost one adorned with a silver songbird on a cattail stem—the Anderson family crest. He looked over his shoulder before exiting the stairs, though he knew no one had followed. Relief washed over him when he realized the balconies were empty. He just needed one moment to himself.  
Leaning up against the wall, he stayed back in the shadows away from the candlelight so as to go unseen by those below him. The moon was full tonight, providing a silver glow wherever the light touched, and when the wind picked up he walked to the balcony’s rail, pressing his hands to the cool stone. Snow laid thick on the ground but up higher the sky was clear and dark, the biting wind on his cheeks the only sign of the season. He ran a hand on his neck, dropping his head forward and closing his eyes as he massaged the tight muscles. 

“King Blaine?”  
His eyes snapped open. He froze and looked in the direction the sound had come from. It was the man from earlier, now bent over in a slight bow. Blaine’s heart sped up. 

“Are you alright, your majesty?”

He jumped at the sound, and the man straightened.

“I’m sorry; I’m quieter than most mice,” the man said lightly. 

“I-I thought these balconies were deserted.”

The man’s endearing gaze changed to a wry smile, one corner of his lips pulling up. “I can make that happen, if you’d like.”

Blaine let the silence hang in the air. “No,” he said finally, letting himself smile. “It’s alright. I wouldn’t mind your company, Sir…?”

“Sir Kurt Hummel.”

Blaine nodded in greeting. “Are you enjoying the party?”

The man laughed, a delicate sound that hit Blaine’s ears as comforting as a crackling fire. “I should be asking you that. It is your birthday after all.”

Blaine felt himself sigh, lose his composure as his body deflated and his head sagged. “I suppose I am tired lately.”

Kurt came closer, and Blaine lifted his head. His eyes were a striking light blue he hadn’t noticed before, and there was lovely gold thread embroidered at the throat of his waistcoat. Blaine had never before seen a man he would describe as ethereal, but here he was standing before him. Kurt cocked his head slightly, looking at Blaine under his lashes. 

“Could I get you some water or anything else?”

Blaine’s throat suddenly felt very dry and though any other time he would have accepted the offer, he didn’t want Kurt to leave. “I’m alright.” He cleared his throat. “Please,” he gestured to his side, “join me.”

He moved to sit on one of the carved stone benches and Kurt followed behind him to take a seat.

“I take it no one has yet told you about the knights sent to the castle?”

Blaine’s brows furrowed. “Knights? No, no one’s mentioned it.”

“Oh. Perhaps you were to be introduced properly soon. They arrived a week ago, though there’s been a lot of adjusting within the ranks. It has been busy from what I can tell.”

“Yes, Queen Rachel tends to go overboard with parties. I’ll be glad for the normal daily stresses after this.” He laughed, though the tone sounded hollow to his ears. 

Kurt eyed him. “You seem to have much on your mind. Is there anything I can do to ease your troubles?”

Blaine dropped his head in his hands. This wasn’t like him. He never broke his composure in public, much less with a man he’d just met. “There have been rumors… I’m not at liberty to say, but rumors all the same are making me uneasy. And the queen’s pregnancy has not been an easy one so far. She stays strong, but it is wearing her down. And my absence earlier this year did not make it any easier.”

To Blaine’s surprise, the man took his hand. It was warm and soft in his grasp, though he could feel the strength in the grip and calloused reminders that these hands had done their fair share of physical work. His mind spun as though he was still dancing. “I know it’s not much of a consolation, but the way you care for your people is noticed. You have many who would give their lives for you in an instant.”

The man’s caring gaze bore into his eyes until Blaine blinked and looked away, nodding. He’d been holding Kurt’s hand for far too long but in truth it felt nice. He felt secure in Kurt’s presence, though his mind seemed to have a hard time thinking correctly. Then he had to look up as Kurt stood. A new song had started, drifting out up to the balconies and filling the room with a soft melody.

For a moment, Blaine wondered if Kurt were going to ask him to dance. His face flushed at the thought. There was something so attractive about Kurt, so sure and calm and genuine and beautiful. He would have said yes. Instead, Blaine felt himself stand too, his mind lazily catching up with his muscles as Kurt spoke. “I should be going, your majesty. Please, if you need anything, do not hesitate to ask.” Kurt bowed again, taking Blaine’s hand and kissing his knuckles before straightening up to look him in the eyes, and then turning to disappear down the stairs. It was odd behavior to kiss his fingers—at least, it was in Blaine’s kingdom, but maybe this man came from afar? He’d forgotten to ask—but the gesture had made Blaine shiver and he’d turned his face to follow the receding figure until he was gone. He brought the hand to his own lips, hardly daring to believe that had happened. And he smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

The next day, Blaine awoke with a euphoric feeling in his chest. And a pounding in his head. He scrunched up his eyes to avoid the light creeping in through the curtains and half-blindly reached around for water. He drank greedily, and then sat back down on the bed. Rachel was on her side, facing away from him, looking to be still dead asleep. Blaine pressed a hand to his chest, the warmth there an odd sensation.

He’d had a lot of wine last night, he knew that. More than he’d normally have. He’d tried to search for the man again after more obligatory dancing, but it was to no avail. It got to where he kept drinking just for an excuse to graze his eyes around the room again, hoping he’d spy the chestnut gold hair amidst the crowd. 

“Kurt…” The name fell from his lips as the man’s face appeared in his mind. He could picture the detailing of the gold thread at the man’s collar, the beautiful pale throat, and the way the moonlight loaned a shimmer to his eyes as though he was standing in front of him again. He’d be willing to bet that Kurt’s throat would look even more stunning when peppered with pink and red bruises planted there by Blaine’s kiss-swollen lips. The smile that pulled at his lip faltered as the realization of what he was thinking slammed into his chest. What was he thinking? He stuttered a breath through his nose, eyebrows knitting together.

He heard Rachel hum, followed by the shift of the mattress as she stretched. Turning to face her, he let the image of Kurt fade like smoke on the horizon.  
Blaine kissed her hard, wrapping his hand around her and finding it impossible to pull their bodies together as close as he wanted. He settled for leaning over her, fingers moving up her sides and to her neck to push her head to the right, where his lips settled at her collarbone. Their kisses became more urgent, more heated. They hadn’t been this close in months and though snow was falling in sheeted patterns outside, they were warm in their bed together. His hands found her swollen breasts, the nipples sensitive and each pass of his tongue over the area drew short breaths from her lungs. Rachel had been exhausted after the ball and resounding festivities, and she’d been recently subdued. But tonight she begged for Blaine’s touch, and he obliged. They laid on their sides, hands exploring areas they hadn’t touched in so long. He felt goosebumps on his arms as she stroked him in increasing need. 

His eyes closed to mounting pleasure for a few moments before he groaned out, “Stop. Please, stop.” 

He let out a deep breath, already hard and aching for the release she would provide. His fingers moved to feel the wetness between her legs, and he slowly pushed his finger inside. Her short gasp made him eager and he began to move faster before laying back and guiding her on top of him. He’d imagined them moving together in ways they had not in a long time, both panting and enjoying this, but he’d no sooner entered her and then—

Their slowing of breath seemed suddenly very loud in the room. Blaine became hyperaware of everything, including the blood rushing in his ears amidst the heat rising in his cheeks for a different reason. They both stilled, Blaine still inside her, but they both knew there was no sense in continuing. Rachel licked her lips and got her breathing under control before moving off and laying beside him. But Blaine did not stay and instead sat on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, the disappointment and shame thick in the air. He felt Rachel’s hands on his back, lightly rubbing. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “It happens. You’ve been so stressed lately. It’s probably just the stress.” She tried to get him to turn his face towards her but he kept his gaze fixated on the ground. “You didn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re wondering. The baby is fine, too.”

He growled and stood, uncharacteristic anger in his actions as he stormed to the closest thing he could find—which happened to be his rack of cloaks—and tore them down, letting them fall to the floor and stepping on them as he stomped to the door and threw on his dressing gown in the process.

“Blaine—“

He cut her off with a terse “Don’t follow me,” as he let the door slam behind him.

He knew he was being unreasonably short with her. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t stay hard. The truth was he did have a lot on his mind. But he should have been able to let that go and focus on her, his wife, but that hadn’t happened. Before he knew where he was going, he was at the stables. It was snowing and he was barefoot and his dressing gown was not what he wanted to be seen in nor was it in any way suitable for the weather but he didn’t care. He sat down on a hay bale, listening to the whinny of the horses and the wind outside. It was warmer in the stables, the scent of wet hay and must oddly comforting. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. What is wrong with me? The anger was dissipating quickly, the cold air having helped to clear his head. His frustration turned to shame.

Blaine stiffened as he heard a noise, his head whipping up in time to see someone’s back as they shut the stable doors. There was nowhere to hide, so Blaine stayed where he was as the person turned.

Kurt was so surprised he almost dropped the basket of apples he was carrying. He bowed immediately upon recognizing him, tripping over his words in his haste. “Y-your Majesty. I apologize; I didn’t know anyone else was here. I’m sorry, I’ll leave at once.”

“No,” Blaine said, surprising himself with how easily the decision came to mind. “Please, stay.”

Kurt straightened up, clearing his throat awkwardly and it was Blaine who hoped to break the tension by asking, “Are you often at the stables?”

He licked his lips before answering, no doubt trying to ignore Blaine’s attire and disheveled appearance. “Almost every night after dinner. I got caught up tonight so that’s why I’m here so late but I bring the horses treats if I can. Otherwise, I brush Pavarotti’s mane and tale and the other horses too, if they need it.” Kurt kept the tone conversational as he walked to the horses and started doling out apples.

“And which one is Pavarotti?” Blaine felt his heart rate slow, his anger and anxiety diminishing like fog in the air. He visibly relaxed as he watched Kurt walk along the stalls, petting each horse between the ears or on the nose.

He stopped by an brown horse with a lighter chestnut colored mane and small flecks of darker brown by the rump. “This one here. I got her when I was made a knight as a younger teen, and she’s been with me ever since. I’d trust her with my life.”

Kurt almost jumped when Blaine’s voice came from right beside him. “It’s good that you have that amount of trust in each other. And you must be a very good fighter to have been made a knight at such a young age.”

Blaine had made sure his robe was secured before moving, but the collar had opened more and exposed some of his chest hair. Kurt seemed to notice then that he didn’t have shoes. “Your majesty, you must be freezing. Here, take my cloak.” He undid the knot and held it out, then reached into his bag. “I carry extra socks in the winter. Never know when they might come in handy.”

He took the items gratefully, realizing how foolish he must look. “I apologize as to the state of my… ah, well, non-attire. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything outside of this stable to anyone.”

“Of course, sir. Your Majesty.” There was silence and Kurt petted his horse’s forehead. Blaine took in Kurt’s outfit, noting his casual clothing, much different than the first time they’d spoken. “Can I ask why you’re out here late at night? Without being properly dressed?” Kurt’s eyes widened. “Are you hurt? Do you need help? Were you attacked?”  
Blaine almost laughed. His pride was hurt for sure but there was no doctor who could fix that. “No, Kurt. I’m okay. It was… through my own fault that I’m in this situation.”  
Kurt nodded as though he understood but they both knew he didn’t have a clue. He cleared his throat. “How fares the queen? Am I correct in understanding she is due soon?”  
His breath caught in his lungs and Kurt didn’t miss the sudden tensity. “I’m sorry, your majesty. I-I didn’t mean to be so forward.”

Blaine let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He ran his hand through his hair again, finding the sweat had dried in his curls. He must look deranged, and the realization that he cared so much how he appeared to Kurt was strange indeed. “You don’t need to apologize. And please call me Blaine. At least, when we speak in private.” He waited for Kurt’s nod before continuing. “Rachel is due soon, that is correct. Very soon, in fact. We might have an heir tomorrow for all we know.”

“The kingdom shall rejoice with such happy news.” Kurt’s congratulations were spoken with a cautious tone, true words but unsure if the king felt the same joy. “Your first child, correct?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Do you have children, Sir Kurt?”

He didn’t miss the blush that crept up to Kurt’s ears.

“Ah, no,” Kurt coughed.

“Do you have a wife?”

He looked away, then back into Blaine’s eyes. “No. Being a high-ranking knight at a young age takes time away from family duties.” He looked away again. “And I don’t enjoy the company of women such as most other men do.”

“Do you have a husband, then?” Blaine had no idea why he was being so intrusive. This should not concern him, yet he wanted to know more about this knight’s life, immediately trusted him, and, even more strange, wanted Kurt to trust him too.

“No, your majesty. Though it’s not for lack of trying.”

Blaine smiled, leaning back against the wood of Pavarotti’s stall. “Anyone you have your mind on? Someone at home?”

He shook his head, shifted his bag on his shoulder. “There’s no one at home I’d ever be interested in. Lima is far too small.”

“Here, then?” Blaine pressed.

Kurt blushed again and his voice seemed small. “Not anyone available, your majesty.”

“Please, call me Blaine.”

Kurt bit his lip, turned away from him. “Blaine.”

The word from Kurt’s mouth was hesitant, soft, beautiful. Blaine wished he would say his name again. “That’s bad luck,” Blaine murmured.

“It is.”

There was only the sighing of the horses and the chirp of hidden crickets around them.

“I should be going, your—Blaine. Please give my best wishes to the queen.” He turned, hearing Blaine’s softly answering, “I will,” and left before he had the chance to give his cloak back.


	5. Chapter 5

Blaine was called down early in the morning to meet the new knights. They had been sent from Lima, Westerville, and as far as Carmel to join the castle’s ranks. With the rocky relations between Dalton and Warbler, he’d been advised to strengthen his guard just in case. He was told to expect anywhere from fifty to one hundred men. It wasn’t much, but it certainly increased the amount he had now and Warbler wasn’t in need of thousands upon thousands of knights. And it was sure to help his people feel safer in case of an attack.

“We’ve been housing them in the west wing, your majesty. They’ve been given tours of the castle and grounds and otherwise have been training. A select few were at your birthday ball. I’m sorry we were unable to have you make their acquaintance sooner, but with the ball and preparations for the queen’s birth—“

“It’s fine, Lord Finn. Truly.”

Finn nodded, tightening his cloak around his neck as they prepared to head outside. Fresh snow had fallen in the night, and the bitter wind was biting, though thankfully the snow had stopped for the time being. The new knights had been gathered in the courtyard in tidy rows, one after the other—all in their armor, presumably to make a good first impression to their king. The two made their way down to the courtyard and stood before them, Finn speaking clearly to the men as he introduced Blaine and reminded them of the oaths they had previously taken in swearing to protect the king and his family at any and all costs. The polished armor shone dazzlingly silver against the white snow, the combined sight almost enough to make Blaine’s eyes water. Blaine’s following speech was short, apologizing that the queen was unable to greet them today and that he was placing his trust in the well-selected men.

“This castle is your home, as it is mine, and I do hope that you will be comfortable here.” Blaine nodded, then turned to Finn, who waved his hand and invited three of the men in front to step forward. They lifted their visors, the swords at their hips swinging slightly at the motion. 

“These are your three king’s guard, the highest-ranking among the knights who will personally serve to protect you if the need arrises. They will lay down their lives for you at a moment’s notice if necessary, to give you a chance to escape combat, capture, or anything that puts you in harm’s way. They have sworn this in oath. May I introduce Sir Nick.” Blaine looked to the first knight and shook his hand, while Finn continued down the line. “Sir Kurt.” Blaine’s heart slammed into his ribs. He swore his face paled, and immediately he felt his cheeks grow hot. Finn cleared his throat. “Um, Sir Kurt,” he repeated, and it was then that Blaine realized Kurt had been holding out his hand, waiting for Blaine to take it. He did so quickly, returning the warm pressure he felt in Kurt’s grasp, his cheeks blazing despite the chill. Their eyes met; Kurt’s blue irises locked on Blaine’s face and his eyebrow lifted in a wry, questioning glance. Finn coughed again. “And Sir Jesse.” Blaine tore his eyes from Kurt’s face and shook Sir Jesse’s hand quickly. “Your king’s guard,” Finn finished and dismissed them to the ranks. Blaine didn’t see Kurt watching him, gauging his reaction, and frowning slightly.

“Thank you,” Blaine said softly, then glancing out at his knights and trying not to see Kurt amongst them. “T-thank you,” he repeated, and turned, his cloak catching the wind and swirling out behind him as he made his way back to the castle, his throat constricting with an overload of emotions he didn’t know what to do with.

When he could next find a moment to spare, Blaine went looking for Kurt. Normally he wouldn’t waste his time with something so trivial but he needed to know. Why, he wasn’t entirely sure, but he knew that he couldn’t sleep well tonight if he didn’t have an answer. He finds Kurt in the middle of a training exercise, multiple groups paired off into twos for hand-to-hand combat exercises in the bulky armor. The guard listens as Blaine leans in to tell him what he needs, and then the man raises his hand and signals them to stop. After some scuffling, all the knights pause, standing up taller. “Sir Kurt.” The guard raises his voice amidst the throng of men. “The king requests you to meet with him.”

One head from dozens dips, and Kurt takes off his helmet. He holds it under his arm as he walks to the guard, who nods once he is there and training resumes. Blaine begins walking and Kurt follows, a curious look on his face.

Blaine continues down a maze of hallways, never slowing, until he apparently deems one safe enough. Then he turns and hisses his question. “Why didn’t you tell me you were one of the king’s guard?”

Kurt raises an eyebrow, though he should have known this was coming. “It didn’t seem important,” he says, his tone as straightforward as his answer. 

“Not important? Of course it’s important. You’re sent here to protect me; you didn’t deem it fitting to say something when we met? You could have been a commoner or… or—”

Kurt cuts him off with a laugh. “A commoner? At your birthday gathering? Did you think me a lord, then?”

“I… I don’t…” he groans, running a hand through his hair. “It didn’t matter.”

“But it does now.”

“You’re the king’s guard!”

Kurt shifts his helmet to the other hip, and Blaine takes in Kurt’s features. There’s drying sweat on his brow and cheeks and some dirt smudged on his face where he’d attempted to wipe it off. His skin is just as pale and beautiful as when Blaine first saw him, though now there’s a red flush to his cheeks and neck. Blaine tears his gaze away to stop from staring, his attraction slashed by another emotion. 

“Why does that change anything? What if I were just another knight? What if I were a lord? It matters so much that I’m sent to protect you—“

“Because you could be killed!” Blaine finds the words are falling from his lips before his brain can filter them. 

“Any one of your knights know the risk.”

“Kurt,” he says tightly, swallowing against the lump in his throat. His voice drops. He can’t say what he feels, because he doesn’t know it himself. He only knows that the thought of losing Kurt, of him dying, hurts more than he can bear. 

Kurt’s face relaxes. He put a hand on Blaine’s arm. “There’s a reason we were chosen to take on that position. Jesse and Nick and I, we all know the risks. But it’s one we’re willing to take, more than willing to take. Our job is to protect you, at all costs. And we’re good at what we do. You needn’t worry.”

Kurt doesn’t understand. And Blaine can’t tell him without ruining everything. “Kurt…” The word is soft in the intimate space, and it holds more emotion than Blaine could put into an explanation.

Kurt pauses, his voice low, more drawn. “Yes?”

The sound is unbelievably alluring, though Blaine’s sure he didn’t mean it to be that way. Blaine’s answer is slow, each word carefully chosen. “I care for you, Kurt, and I want…” His throat closes. He clears his throat, finally settles on how to continue. “I want you to know that.” It’s not enough. Not enough to cover how he feels. They only met twice before this, and Kurt has this affect on Blaine. He knows it’s ridiculous, but he doesn’t want to just ignore it. He doesn’t think he can. The blue eyes soften. Blaine feels his own demeanor changing again, the insecure and fumbling person coming to the forefront. He’s getting in way over his head, way faster than he could have ever imagined, and he knows it.

Kurt’s quiet; Blaine finds he can barely keep eye contact. He wills Kurt to say something—anything—but he doesn’t. Instead, Kurt presses a hand to Blaine’s cheek, the gesture unexpected and entirely intimate. “I do,” he whispers. “More than you know.”

He turns to leave, and Blaine lets him as he finds himself stunned into silence. He could swear that a sad look had come over Kurt’s face before he’d turned away.

**************

“And you were unable to—“ 

“Yes,” Blaine interrupts testily. “You don’t have to make a mockery of it.”

“No one is mocking you, your majesty.” The physician, an old man with many wrinkles and grey hair who Blaine was sure could have attended his great great grandmother’s birth, explains. “There could be many reasons why. It will not help anything to blame yourself.”

Blaine feels his forehead wrinkle. “The more I’m told that, the more it seems to me that it is my fault but no one wants to piss off the king.”

The old man sits down beside Blaine. “I’ve seen you grow up and there’s been no sign or history of reasons to be worried. It might be a situational occurrence or stress. You told me yourself that you hadn’t been intimate in quite some time. You need to relax, King Blaine.”

“How can I relax when this is what might could help the queen go into labor, and I can’t even do that correctly?”

The physician thinks for a moment. “Is there anything that has taken your thoughts elsewhere?”

“Other than sickness and making sure my people are taken care of?” He snorts.

“Let me put it another way. Is there someone who has caught your eye?”

Blaine’s disposition hardens immediately. “And what exactly are you implying?”

The old man shrugs, stating simply, “I had noticed you talking with a knight at the last ball. You’re allowed to have desires, your majesty. He seemed quite taken with you.”

Blaine is quiet. He hadn’t noticed anyone else on the balconies, and they were far enough in the shadows that no one in the Great Chamber should have seen them either. How many others had seen them? But a more pressing question strayed to the front of his mind. Was Kurt truly interested in him? He speaks now with care, choosing his words. 

“And what would happen if I do? How would that help my situation?”

“You’re the king. He must do as you command.” He raises his wispy eyebrows knowingly.

Blaine lets his eyes shift to the floor, that proposition rolling in his mind. What if it worked? He didn’t have many other options. Day after day healers and doctors came in and out trying what they could. Waiting much longer wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. He stands, and without a word, walks out of the room. He has to find Kurt.


	6. Chapter 6

He’s leading his horse to the practice arena when Blaine finds him, the sun just beginning to set and streaking the sky with orange and pink. “Kurt!” he calls, and the man stops and turns to look over his shoulder. 

“Your Majesty?”

Blaine swallows, unable to believe he is actually doing this. But the more he pictures Kurt’s face in his memory, the more he realizes how beautiful he is. And how much he longs for his touch, for him. “I need to ask something of you.”

“Anything.”

Blaine looks around anxiously. “Perhaps we could speak somewhere privately?”

“Of course, your majesty. Is everything alright?” He begins to lead his horse back the way they’d come, and Blaine feels nervous sweat break out on his forehead.

“Not really.”

“Can I be of service?”

Ooooh, he has no idea. Blaine is aware of how dry his throat is getting the closer they get to the stalls. “Yes, actually.” He helps Kurt unsaddle Pavarotti and when they are standing together, alone in the stalls, Kurt asks, “What is it you require from me?”

Blaine swallows, hoping this wouldn’t sound absolutely crazy. “You know the queen is having a difficult pregnancy.” Kurt nods. “There’s not much we can do at this point but having her not deliver very, very soon put both her and our child at great risk. I would not come to you if I felt that there were any other way. The physician has recommended that the queen and I be…”—He feels himself blush—“intimate in an effort to speed things along. That has so far proved ineffective. He noticed us talking at the ball and suggested that you… you participate to help me, um… keep my focus.”

Kurt stands there, one hand on his hip as he listens to the speech. Blaine’s voice sounds desperate. He hopes—and half-knows—it was not only by suggestion of the physician that Blaine came to him. He raises an eyebrow. “Do I keep you focused?” Kurt asks, and neither of them misses the low, measured tone his normally high pitch took on.

“You do.” Blaine could hardly speak over how much his heart was pounding.

“Have you been with a man before?” The question was so blunt, but on Kurt’s lips it was seductive.

“No.” It was a whisper. So much for him giving the commands. Nervous, sweating, not able to speak, he’d never been this unwound. He blinks and clears his throat. “You need to tell me what to do.”

The immediate smirk on Kurt’s face was enough that he took as a yes. “That won’t be a problem.”

**********

Blaine is halfway up the stairs to his bedchamber with Kurt following behind when he realized he hadn’t told the queen any of this. He sighs aloud, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“What is it?”

“Um…” They keep walking, continuing down the hall until Blaine stops at the door, the servant standing guard already reaching to open the door for him. He holds up his hand to stop the servant, then turns to Kurt.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“No, I… Please forgive me, Kurt, but I should have a moment alone with the queen to… discuss our… arrangement.”

Kurt nods and stands back, disappointment flashing through his head but hoping that his eyes did not betray his feeling. Blaine disappears into the room and the guard, who Kurt feels he might have seen once or twice before around the castle, stands straight against the wall and Kurt fights the urge to raise his eyebrow. The guy is young, even younger than Kurt, and he is trying hard to look important in front of him. He leans back against the wall on the other side and crosses his arms, realizing now how quiet it is. If the queen said no, now that Kurt knew Blaine felt the same desire he did, it would be very hard to let him go. Even knowing that Blaine was only doing this for his queen and their child, he would have said yes many times over. Since he saw him, he hadn’t been able to close his eyes without thinking about him. He shakes his head. Of all the men he could have been infatuated by, it had to be the king. 

After much too long, Blaine comes back out. He’d taken off his coat, more comfortable clothes on underneath the elaborate and feathered overcoat. “Thank you, Mark,” he said with soft direction. “Please return to your quarters. We do not require a guard tonight.” The teen nods and his footsteps echo down the hall until they are gone. Blaine at last looks to Kurt and lowers his voice, though the door is shut and they are the only ones in this hallway.

“The queen has agreed. But she has conditions. One, that she will remain clothed at all times other than when it is necessary. Two, that your, um, services are provided only when required and only when you’re told to join. And three, that you act as my help only and that we do our best to keep her out of it. So, uh… please try to not look at her.” Blaine coughs and a blush settles on his face. “Do you agree to these conditions?”

Kurt nods. “Yes.”

The king glances down, teeth grazing over his lip. “Well then, um… would you like to come in?”

The smile stretches across Kurt’s face. “I would.” As Blaine turns, he leans over and whispers in his ear, “Do not be nervous, Your Majesty.”

They enter the room, most of the candles blown out, and Kurt wonders if that was for their benefit or the queen’s. She is sitting on the bed in her nightgown, and has also donned a dressing robe over that. Her stomach is swollen, rounded, and so huge, Kurt wonders why he had not been propositioned sooner. The discomfort is clear on her face and she presses a hand to the side of her belly, frowning. Her hair is down in a braid, wisps framing her face, much less regal than he’d seen but he thought if he were that pregnant and uncomfortable, his hair would be the last thing on his mind. The queen nods in greeting as Kurt says, “Good evening, Your Grace.” He stands back and watches Blaine go to her, tenderly caressing her cheek and whispering gently to her, kissing her temple and then her knuckles. The queen replies in equal volume, her eyes briefly sliding to Kurt. Blaine cares deeply for her, that is clear.

The queen nods and Blaine kisses her, then turns. “Please,” he waves his hand, “anywhere you feel comfortable, my home is yours. And you are free to leave, if at any time you change your mind.”

Kurt barely let his head bow. His heart is in his throat, though he would not admit it. He’d agreed to this—he knew what to expect—and he tried to respect their privacy by not looking. He could hear them kiss, he heard soft moans and gasps, heard clothing being tossed aside. Heat rushes to his face and he walks close to the wall by the bed, trying to distract himself. He runs his fingers along the cool stone until he is next to the bed, feels the covers against his thigh. Curiosity gets the better of him and he let his eyes slide to the side, looking for the briefest of moments before turning away. Blaine had the queen’s head cupped in one hand, kissing her hard and needy, the other hand underneath her clothes, moving rhythmically. There is a soft gasp and he hears them moving.

The almost desperate way Blaine kissed was enough to send the blood in his body flooding to his cock and after a while, he looks again. Blaine is lying flat on his back, and Kurt sees his bare chest heaving in concentration. The queen is facing away from them, pointedly showing only her back to them as she rides Blaine slowly, her dress falling around Blaine’s hips. Short breaths come from the king, and Kurt can tell he is struggling. His hips move in a jerking fashion, not finding the rhythm that his hand had done earlier. Kurt knows he is supposed to wait for Blaine’s signal, but he bites his lip and moves from the wall into Blaine’s line of sight. The king pauses, breath slowing. Kurt removes his shirt quickly, his pants following soon after. Blaine’s eyes widen, wanting to look at all of Kurt at once and not able to settle on where to leave his gaze. So Kurt decides for him.

He licks his palm and strokes himself, his hand falling into an easy pace. Blaine watches, so enthralled that he jumps when Kurt runs his other hand on Blaine’s chest, up to his neck, pressing softly against his lips. “Relax,” he whispers, and almost immediately, the king does so. “Good,” he praises, hand still working himself until he is fully hard. Blaine’s breath speeds up, his movements continuing. He hears the queen’s soft breaths beside him, but it is as though she isn’t there. Kurt keeps his eyes locked solely on Blaine. He leans down and presses kisses along Blaine’s collarbone and neck, humming in satisfaction as Blaine makes soft and needing noises. As his lips pass over Blaine’s neck, he lets out a soft breath on his ear, teasing Blaine’s earlobe with his teeth. He whispers with sure direction, “Give me head while you fuck her.”

He almost chuckles when Blaine gasps out a wheezing pant at the idea. This will be awkward, but there really isn’t much choice given how Blaine and Rachel are positioned. He could ask them to move, but Kurt doubts Rachel would be comfortable in any position other than the one she’s in currently. So Kurt straightens, and steps up onto the bed, swinging his other leg over Blaine’s body. He crouches there, his cock touching Blaine’s chest, and they lock eyes, Kurt waiting for confirmation. Blaine nods in return, his heart pounding. Kurt’s bare back brushes up against Rachel’s clothes and he shuffles forward and readjusts to straddle Blaine’s face. He raises up higher on his knees, reaching for the wall to press his hand against to steady himself. Blaine is looking up at him, waiting, and Kurt runs his finger down Blaine’s cheek. “Go ahead,” he encourages, and hesitantly, Blaine takes the head in his mouth, slowly moving forward to take in a little more. Kurt waits patiently until Blaine stops, then with his heart thudding in his ears, he looks down and commands, “Suck.”

Kurt’s eyes fly open and he pulls back when Blaine does so eagerly. “Gentle, your majesty,” he groans. Blaine’s eyes hold fearful apology and he looks terrified that he may have hurt him. He threads his hand through Blaine’s hair. “Gentle,” he says again. This time, Blaine sucks softly, over and over. Kurt swallows, Blaine’s warm mouth surrounding him and his tongue hesitantly pressing up against his cock. He lets Blaine relax around him, beginning to move his head too. The king’s hands move up Kurt’s thighs, nails dragging slightly on his pale skin, up to Kurt’s hips. Kurt slowly lets his hips move, thrusting shallowly into Blaine’s mouth. Then Blaine pulls off and swallows, licks his lips, lets Kurt move his head back and he begins to suck again.

His hips move, matching the pace Kurt began to set with his thrusts into Blaine’s mouth. He feels Rachel taking him as he sucks faster and listens to Kurt’s breathing. Kurt had let his head fall forward, hand braced against the wall, and his mouth is open, breath coming in pleasured gasps. His cock throbs, and Rachel’s noises join Kurt’s. His chest heaves, focusing on not moving as Kurt begins to move faster, fucking his mouth and moaning above him. Kurt’s hand moves to Blaine’s hair, tightening in the dark curls. Blaine stops moving his head and lets Kurt thrust, licking and sucking to his pace. His fingers press on Kurt’s hips, moving with him. He lets his own hips jerk up to Kurt’s thrusts, Rachel pushing back hard against him and her groans telling him she is close. His cock throbs more, aching for release now, and he closes his eyes tightly in panic. But then his mouth is empty, and Kurt crouches again, his body shaking and hard cock twitching and dripping with spit. His hold tightens in Blaine’s hair. “Not yet,” he says, his tone stern.

Blaine chokes as he swallows, his breath ragged and closed his eyes as Rachel continues to ride him, her movements staggered. 

“Wait.” Kurt’s harsh command rings in the air, and Blaine opens his eyes to look at him, his hands digging into Kurt’s hips. He is trying so hard to obey, but he knows that very soon he won’t be able to. Blaine’s eyes slam closed, and he breathes out through his teeth, body trembling with the effort. When at last Kurt touches Blaine’s head to get his attention and lowers himself down, Blaine takes him willingly, digging his fingers harder into Kurt’s sides as he sucks him again and again, bobbing his head and thrusting his hips up as though angry he had to wait this long. Kurt bites his lip, his mouth falling open again and breathing heavily, not able to stop himself. He lets Blaine set the pace now, trembling with the effort of allowing only small thrusts against Blaine’s mouth, wanting so badly to come but holding off. The air is thick with heat and sweat and sex and finally Rachel tenses and moans loudly, stopping moving. Blaine pulls away, let his head fall back and thrusts again, hips stuttering as he comes with a heavy exhale that lingers into a moan. Kurt looks up to avoid Blaine’s face, sure that if he saw him as he came, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from doing the same. Kurt’s hand clenches into a fist against the wall. “Fuck,” he groans, pressing his forehead hard against his trembling hand. Do not come, he repeats over and over in his head, picturing anything he can to kill the desire low in his belly.

When Blaine is silent, Kurt moves off the bed, dressing quickly. Rachel had moved off of Blaine, now murmuring softly to him. Kurt doesn’t have to guess that it had been a long time since he’d come that hard, glancing over to see Blaine’s head fall towards him. Sweat runs down his face, sticking his curls to his forehead. He’s even more beautiful now than before. Kurt gathers up his cloak in one hand, clearing his throat and bowing. “Good night, your majesty.” He tips his head to Rachel quickly. “Your Grace.”  
Blaine doesn’t miss that Kurt is still hard, showing through his pants but the sweep of his cloak conceals him. Blaine opens his mouth but Kurt is already gone, shutting the door softly behind him.

*************

Kurt walks as fast as he can back to his quarters. He practically slams the door shut behind him and lets his labored breathing fill the room. He barely bothers to unclasp his cloak before he climbs on the bed and his thoughts rush back to Blaine, the way his face had looked—pupils so blown out and face scrunched in concentration as he struggled not to come. Kurt had made him feel that way, could have made him come right then. The King of Warbler was putty in his hands. If only he’d gotten to put his hands on him in the way that he wanted. Kurt palms himself through his breeches, his half-hard cock immediately beginning to throb again. He begins to thrust against his palm, lowering to the bed and rocking his body against his hand.

He remembers the moans Blaine had uttered, the frantic grasping at Kurt’s thighs. He rocks down harder, biting his lip and gasping. And this time he imagines what Blaine’s face might look like as he came, knowing it was because of him that Blaine came at all. Kurt thrusts faster, Blaine’s face the only thing he sees and his quiet groaning mixes with the replay of Blaine’s moans in his mind. It was the most beautiful sound Kurt had ever heard. He comes hard, hips erratically pumping, biting down on his lip to dull his noise.

His mind is hazy, and he rolls over and lays there, steadily growing cold in his room and the stickiness in his breeches not a pleasant feeling. As he comes down from his high, panicked thoughts run through his mind. This was not good. Not good at all. He is attracted to Blaine, he knew that the first moment they met. He never thought he’d take action on his feelings. Technically, Blaine was the one to take that action by asking, but he didn’t do it for Kurt’s benefit. All at once he felt horribly guilty and dazed. He shouldn’t be thinking this. Blaine had a wife, and soon he’d have a child. Blaine didn’t feel anything for him.

When the ringing in Kurt’s ears ceased, he stands carefully, stripping off his clothes, cleaning himself off, and then putting on new ones. He crawls into bed slowly this time, willing his mind to stop, to focus on anything other than Blaine. Though, eventually, he give up and falls asleep knowing that they could never have a future together, but after tonight he wants just that more than anything.


	7. Chapter 7

“Blaine?”

Nothing.

“Blaine.”

Silence.

“Blaine!” 

He whips his head up, startled, blurting out, “What? What?” Rachel is leaned down to his level, maps and papers spread out in front of him where he’d dazed off with a quill in his hand. Ink blotches sat thick and dark on a sheet of paper where the quill had been dripping, unnoticed. “Shit,” he mutters, and dabs at the stain. “What is it?” he asks offhandedly, distracted by the smearing ink.

“The baby is coming.”

Blaine drops the quill, scattering ink on no fewer than three documents. “The… what?”

Now that she had his attention, she straightens. “I’ve been having contractions all morning, and then my water broke and now they’re worse. And coming faster. You were in that meeting all morning so I didn’t tell you and I wanted to make sure before I told you, but yes, this is it.”

His tongue feels glued to the roof of his mouth. “T-this is happening. Okay. Okay.” Blaine stands, not entirely sure what to do next. “Um, what do I do?”

And Rachel smiles then, the trace of a laugh a ghost on her lips. “You wait. Remember? We talked about this. I’ll—“

“—be in the laying-in chamber. Oh, right, I remember.” They had talked about this. It seemed like so very long ago. She shouldn’t even be here; she should have gone right to the midwife when she started having pain. 

“Good. I just wanted to see you before…” Her voice fades and her face falls and contorts with pain. It starts as a soft hum and grows to a low moan as she bends over and reaches out a hand for Blaine. His eyes widen and he puts an arm around her, letting her grip his shoulder. He feels paralyzed. When it passes, she let out a heavy breath and slowly straightens. “Can you take me there?” she asks quietly, face drawn. 

“Yes,” he whispers, all he feels capable of saying at the moment.

He keeps an arm around her waist, though she walks without support. They stand outside the doors, Rachel holding Blaine’s hands, and she looks up at him. There would be no one but the female midwives and close female friends with Rachel, and after the baby is born she would remain laying-in for up to a month, and Blaine was not allowed to see her or his child until after that time had passed. They knew they were saying goodbye for a while. 

“I’m scared,” Rachel says softly, her eyes drifting to the doors. 

“I know,” Blaine replies, kissing her hair. “I am, too. For your safety. And the baby’s.” He swallows. “You’ll be okay. Everything will be okay.”

She nods, gripping his hands one last time before he lets her go. He backs up, watching her disappear into the room where a servant would fetch the midwives.

When she was gone, he rakes a hand through his hair. He should be excited. Nervous, yes, but excited all the same. But he feels sick to his stomach, terrified and anxious and… dread leaks into his heart. This wasn’t how he was supposed to feel. With a frustrated groan, he turns and starts walking back to his room, trying to dispel the wave of negative emotions that threatened to engulf him.

************

Blaine takes one look at his ruined documents and shuts the door, turning instead to run down the stairs and through the many hallways until he was outside. He blinks in the harsh light, raised a hand to shield his eyes. Going riding should clear his mind. He’d always enjoyed the peace it seemed to bring, and he hadn’t been out on the trails around Warbler in a long time. He saddles up a horse he knows to be gentle and takes off down the closest trail. The icy wind whips his hair back as he urges his horse faster. Normally there would be someone accompanying him but he expects the castle is now buzzing with the news, and he’d taken off too quickly to draw attention to himself. Right now he just needs to put as much distance between himself and the castle as he can.

Blaine’s mind feels fuzzy, blanking in a way that brought relief. He keeps his gaze ahead, looking further and further down the snowy trail, pushing on that much faster. When he finally slows, his horse is panting and he has to pause and think where they are. He continues at a draggingly slow walk, but reaches a river soon enough and he stops to let his horse drink. He cups a handful and drinks, too, though his hand tingles with cold. He flexes his fingers and tucks his hands into his armpits to warm them. This wasn’t his best idea. Though it seemed most of his bad decisions were made in haste and in highly emotional situations. 

“Come on,” he says softly, pulling the mare’s reins and leading her back up to the trail before remounting. They continue at a soft gallop on the way back, the freeing feeling in Blaine’s heart changing to constrict his chest the closer they get to the barn.

He spends a very long time grooming the mare, covering her with a blanket, and giving her a few extra carrots. When he leaves, he realizes the uncomfortable feeling has manifested into aching nausea and he gladly takes the excuse to crawl under his own blankets and sleep, hiding from what he knows he will have to eventually face.  
When he can sleep no longer, he busies himself with whatever he can. Anything to distract his mind. How long had it been since they said goodbye that afternoon? The hours seemed to drag on no matter what he did. His mind drifts to Kurt. No, his mind only returned to Kurt. Kurt was always on his mind, since the moment he saw him.  
His heart leaps into his throat. What the hell is he doing? He knew what he wanted. He knew he loved Rachel. But with Rachel he’d never felt the emotion he feels when he thinks of Kurt. His brow furrows, he feels anger rise in his chest. Nothing felt right anymore. Everything feels off kilter and unsteady and disorienting. He doesn’t know what to do or how to feel. His heart is aching, reaching, pulling towards a choice he doesn’t know if he will be able to make.

************

“I hear congratulations are in order,” Kurt offers, to fill the silence. Blaine clears his throat, eyes glancing down for a moment before meeting Kurt’s again. He nods confirmation.  “Last night. Yes.”

Kurt raises an eyebrow, his head cocking to the side. “Doesn’t that make you happy?”

Blaine’s silence says a lot. 

“You’re not happy? I thought that’s what you wanted. A healthy baby.”

“A girl,” Blaine says softly. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, eyes downcast now. “Kurt, you know as well as I do that the kingdom cannot have a female heir. I need to have a son to have a real heir. To prove—“ He cuts off, biting his lip and looking away. 

Kurt steps closer, trying to get Blaine to look at him. “To prove what?”  The king sighs, the breath slowly filling his chest. His face is lined with uneasiness. “To prove that I can be the king my people need. If I can’t produce a male heir, I’ll be left with no one to take the throne. That’s one of my main duties as king. I’m expected to have my wife bear a son.”

Kurt feels his face soften. “You can have many children, your majesty. You can try again.”

Suddenly Blaine’s eyes light with fire, and he lets out a dark laugh. He pushes off from the wall and past Kurt. He turns and spreads his arms wide, a twisted smile on his face. “That’s the thing though, isn’t it?” His voice is harsh, loud in the crisp air. He presses a hand to his chest. “What if I don’t want to?” Thick brows crease in anger, then his eyes widen at his own statement, and he turns away, hanging his head and circling his arms around himself. Kurt feels stunned, rooted to the spot with his eyes boring into Blaine’s back. He moves forward slowly, gently touching Blaine’s shoulder. He shrugs him off, then his body sags with a sigh and Kurt realizes his eyes are wet, shimmering in the dull light. 

“What’s going on, your majesty?” Kurt braves the question, wanting to help but unsure of how. “Why are you so upset?”

He watches Blaine shrug and huff a low laugh. Then Blaine finally turns to fully face him, touching his index and middle fingers to Kurt’s cheek, softening eyes darting to his lips. And Kurt hasn’t done more than inhale before he sees where Blaine was looking, before he is pressed up against him. He kisses Kurt, the two of them moving together as if they had been made to fit. It starts off gentle, quickly moving into dizzying closeness and when Blaine slides his tongue forward, Kurt opens his mouth and Blaine simultaneously pushes Kurt backwards with the force of his kiss, and pulls him in even closer to cup the back of his head in a strong grasp. Kurt exhales, sucking in another shallow breath, and kisses back with just as much needing. They’re both dizzy and flushed when they finally pull away, left reeling by the other’s touch.  
Kurt touches his bottom lip, tingling from when Blaine had caught it between his teeth, almost unsure that the kiss was real. His mind is hazy, blurring, and the way he’s throbbing now tells him that he hasn’t dreamed this. 

“I can’t…” Blaine whispers, dropping his head again where it shakes slowly back and forth before lifting to meet Kurt’s eyes. “I can’t stop thinking about you, how you made me feel. How you make me feel now.” 

Kurt lets his eyes search Blaine’s face, knowing his own mind is muddled with his own desire and mixing with new confusion. 

“You took my breath away the first moment I met you, and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since.” He pauses, biting his lip. “And I don’t know if I want to be with Rachel anymore.”

Kurt feels his heart drop into his stomach. “You… you can’t mean that, your majesty.” Kurt’s voice seems hollow to his ears. He swallows, wanting to say so much more but knowing he needs to not encourage this. “It was only one night.”

But Blaine steps up closer, his thick lash-rimmed eyes staring deep into Kurt’s unsure gaze. “You move me, Kurt. I feel things with you that I’ve never felt when I’m with Rachel. We could—“

“We could what?” Kurt cuts him off shortly. He can’t believe he’s doing this. “You ask me to come talk to you in the middle of the night, a mere twenty-four hours after your daughter is born, and expect me to just say yes? To help you betray your kingdom and your new family? To fall in love with you until you get bored of me too?” He feels tears prick his eyes, the wind seeming colder now, as cold as the ice in his words.

Blaine steps back, eyes shimmering. His face falls, as though Kurt had hit him. “Kurt,” he says, voice breaking. “I didn’t mean—“ Kurt raises his chin, steeling his voice. 

“Goodnight, Your Majesty.” He punctuates the words with a small bow, briskly pushing past Blaine before he can watch the tears fall to Blaine’s cheeks.


	8. Chapter 8

Blaine still feels the stab of Kurt’s words even days later. His chest still seizes with hurt when he is asked to review how the knight’s training is coming along. With calculated coldness, he avoids looking to the areas he knows Kurt will be. Not a word, not a glance had passed between them in what felt like a very long time. With the queen laying in, and the thought of Kurt burning like fast-acting poison in his brain, Blaine felt very alone. He avoided the stables, where he knew Kurt was bound to be, he did not glance much at the table he knew his king’s guard was sat while at dinner, for fear of Kurt’s eyes tearing through his heart like daggers.

It is by mere accident that Blaine crosses Kurt’s path as Kurt exits the library wing, and Blaine stops short, his very being frozen to the spot. He swallows hard, the lump in his throat rising quickly. 

“Your Majesty,” Kurt bows in greeting, his words a whisper in the quiet hall. He barely makes more eye contact than is necessary, though Blaine cannot force his own wide eyes away from the man. Kurt turns and continues on his way, and Blaine watches him as he goes, the ache in his heart starting up with renewed want. He does not see how Kurt’s eyes close in frustration, and how he has to clench his nails into his palms to keep from wanting to cry. He hurt Blaine, he knew he did. But he can’t show his feelings, not when that would be the worst thing for Blaine and the kingdom. The moment he rounds the corner, he presses his back to the wall and lets the tears fall, biting his lip to keep from making noise. Everything in him is telling him to run back there, to confess what he feels to Blaine, to let his heart speak freely, but he cares too much to do that to him. He can’t let his emotions get in the way and cause more pain for Blaine. If he thinks Kurt hates him, Blaine will feel anger towards him but eventually he will forget. The pain will subside. Kurt can only hope that he forgets Blaine as surely as Blaine will forget Kurt.

***********

Blaine’s stomach feels hollow, and he leans against the wall when Kurt is gone from his sight. The knights will be here for an undetermined length of time. He needs to get used to seeing Kurt. He needs to push aside his desire, the way his heart has grown to care so quickly. He must do this, and yet, the thought of feeling nothing towards Kurt almost makes his soul ache even more.

Blaine can’t sleep, his chambers seeming so empty now. He hears the soft breeze through the window, fluttering the gauze draping there. He tosses and turns again. Groaning in frustration, he sits up and runs his hands through his hair. He sits quietly for a long time and tries to think of calming tales he’d been told as a child, anything to help him sleep. But Kurt’s face keeps appearing in his thoughts, and suddenly the dashing knight in the tales that he conjures is his knight, his Kurt. He drops his face in his hands. He has to stop thinking like this. He has a wife and now a child.

You’re the king. He must do as you command. The words meant to be advice given to him not so long ago by the physician rang in his mind. He doesn’t want to command anything of Kurt, especially not after he’d already done so much to help them. Kurt didn’t have to do what he did. Memories flashed, of Kurt’s face above his and the sheer pleasure that had shifted his features from simply handsome to breathtakingly gorgeous. Would Kurt have agreed to the arrangement, even knowing full well that it was only to aid himself for his wife, if he felt nothing at all for him? Blaine finds himself wanting Kurt to feel something for him, anything at all. Their last encounter had been so… formal, so uncomfortable. Kurt might hate him or he might not, but Blaine can’t keep letting his heart ache this way. He will go mad if it’s allowed to fester in his soul and spread like disease.

Fed up, he finally tosses aside his covers and throws on his dressing gown. The guard is immediately on edge as he opens the door but Blaine disregards him, saying he does not know when he will be back but to not tell anyone he’d left. If Rachel finds out, she would be hurt and angry. There was the chance that Kurt felt nothing for him, but he needed to know.

He walks with a determined pace, though quiet enough that he will not be heard, and having memorized the route, soon stands in front of Kurt’s door with his heart pounding and pulse racing. He begins to sweat. This is a terrible idea, he chastises himself. He’s asleep, like most people. He doesn’t want to be bothered. He turns to leave but at the last second, changes his mind again and with a firm hand, knocks.

There is no answer, as he suspected. Kurt is asleep. He lets out a shaky breath and turns away, having moved a few steps down the hallway when he hears the door open.

“Hello?”

His voice is scratchy and low; he’d obviously been woken up. The apology was already on Blaine’s lips as he faced him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” He caught full glance of Kurt standing in the doorway, hair messy and body lean and strong, dressed only in undergarments. Blaine’s breath caught on his words. “…disturb you.”

Kurt straightens in realizing who’d knocked at his door, clearing his throat. “Your majesty, is something wrong?” His tone is listless, spoken out of obligation and not emotion.  
Blaine forces his feet to move until he was only inches away from Kurt, his heart quickening with every step. Maybe the blood drained from his face because Kurt’s next words were tinged with worry. “Your Majesty?”

Blaine’s eyes lock onto Kurt’s and he swallows. It’s half blind courage and half utter terror that makes Blaine swiftly close the gap between them and kiss Kurt, his hands settling on Kurt’s narrow hips. Kurt didn’t kiss him back, but he didn’t pull away. He lowers his head, mumbling, “I—I need to go,” and backs up, fire creeping up his cheeks.

But his name on Kurt’s lips makes him pause and look into his eyes, despite the fear he feels. “Blaine…”

The silence rings out in the night, the cross breeze pushing Blaine’s curls out of his face.

“Don’t leave.”

He swallows again and moves forward, Kurt grabbing his hand and inviting him inside. His room is small, holding only a simple bed with no frame and a crudely-made bookshelf atop which sat a dimly burning candle and a bucket of water with one cup. The room felt cozy and intimate and Blaine felt both at home and so entirely out of place, an intrusion into Kurt’s space. “Would you like a drink?” Kurt asks, gesturing towards the bucket.

“No, thank you,” Blaine says, his voice shaky.

Kurt doesn’t seem bothered by it and stays, standing expectantly. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Images of what Blaine wanted so badly for Kurt to do floods his mind and he shuts his eyes and shakes his head. “No, no.”  Kurt waits expectantly, waits until Blaine stopped picking at his thumbnail and speaks again. “I’m sorry, Kurt. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. It wasn’t fair of me to ask you what I did. My people need me to be someone they can count on, someone they can depend upon. And my heart got in the way of my head. And I’m sorry that I dragged you into this.”

Blaine lowers his head, looking so defeated and sad in that moment. “Rachel needs me. The kingdom needs me. And I’m sorry for putting my own foolish desires above the people who need me more.”

There’s silence before Kurt speaks quietly and the words tumble fast. “Blaine, I… I feel what you feel. What you felt,” he corrects. He cuts off, surprised by his own admission. A frustrated groan and gripping at his hair break the silence before he shrugs and sighs, speaking so quietly. “I’ve never met anyone who makes me feel so whole as I do when I’m with you. But you know better than anyone that we can’t be together. The kingdom would be without a king, without an heir, and Warbler would crumble. You have to focus on everything else, you can’t be distracted by me.”

“You’re already in my head,” Blaine whispers, eyes downcast. “I can’t just forget you.”

“I don’t want to make things worse.”

Blaine’s dark laugh huffs in the quiet room. Kurt’s becoming familiar with that noise, one that hurts his heart because he knows Blaine is in pain. “My wife just had a baby and I’m falling in love with the knight sent here to protect me. How can things get any worse?”

“Blaine…” He sighs then; he’d been wanting to avoid this but he can’t hide it any longer and his heart aches. “I’m leaving in the morning.”

Blaine’s head snaps up, curls bouncing against his temple. “What?” The cracked word rings out, leaving ache in its wake.  “I’m going to Westerville. My family is there.”

And Blaine’s mind is still reeling, still panicking at the very thought. “You’re leaving?”

Kurt nods, what he hopes is sympathy on his face. 

“Y-you can’t leave. You can’t. You can’t just go. Please.” Blaine is trying to control his emotions, leaving his voice strained and he’s blinking furiously, swallowing hard. 

“Please.”

“You’ve heard the rumors. The sickness might be heading this way. You need to protect your people, not worry about me. I’ll be dishonored at leaving the king’s guard, but there are others who can take my place. You will still be protected. That’s what matters.”

His throat’s gone dry, and his eyes won’t stop watering. Everything aches now that Kurt’s voiced how he wants to leave. “I’ll step down. I’ll find someone else to have the throne. I don’t want it. I never did.” He speaks quickly, sputtering any plan he can come up with. Anything to have Kurt stay. 

“Blaine,” Kurt snaps, his eyes shimmering with tears. This hurts. All of it hurts, and his composure, his carefully measured indifference, is cracking. “Think of what you’re saying. You’d leave the kingdom with an inexperienced leader for me?” “I have no experience!” Blaine shouts, surprised at the power his voice contains. “I’m an inexperienced leader. I pretend like I know what I’m doing but I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do!” His voice drops suddenly, a whisper that drills in Kurt’s mind over and over. “You’re the first thing in my life that made sense.”

Suddenly Blaine is being kissed, Kurt’s hands tangling in his hair and pulling him closer, at last unable to hold back the need and the broken sound of Blaine’s voice is too much to leave bare. Blaine’s lips moved with his, wanting to get so much closer. Kurt backs off and stares at him, a few inches away from his face. Blaine’s mouth falls open and then snaps shut, desire thrumming in every bone. “I want you,” he finally says, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. “I need you, Kurt. From the moment I saw you, everything changed and when it was suggested that you… that we…. That night changed me. It changed everything. It was only partly out of necessity that I asked you.”

“And the other part?”

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before.”


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt pushes forward and kisses him again, harder this time, more needing, more demanding. Blaine kisses him back with just as much enthusiasm, his heart soaring that Kurt wanted him too. He let himself be forced backwards, be pushed up against the wall and he couldn’t stop the groan that escaped. His hands cup Kurt’s head tighter, their lips fierce against each other. The heat that rises in the air only makes Blaine more eager as Kurt nips at his bottom lip and begins to alternately suck and drag his teeth along the skin. Blaine’s hands seem to not want to leave Kurt’s face, but Kurt lets his wander, dancing along Blaine’s shoulders and sides, down to his hips. Kurt steps closer and rolls his hips forward. Blaine’s hips stutter up at the motion, a soft moan separating their lips at last.

Remembering, Blaine sinks his head down onto Kurt’s neck, nuzzling there for a moment before turning their bodies, pulling Kurt with him and pressing him up against the wall. Their eyes met for the flicker of a second and then Blaine drops to his knees, pushing up Kurt’s nightgown hastily. Long fingers pull at the fabric to help, yanking the gown over his head and letting it fall to the floor. Blaine looks up, eyes raking along all of Kurt’s porcelain skin and lets out a slow breath. Then he drops his head, grasping Kurt’s length in his hand and taking him into his mouth. He moves his mouth slowly, licking, sucking, remembering. He begins to move faster, sucking harder and hearing Kurt’s groaning increase in cadence above him. His heart is pounding. He knew those noises, wanted to keep making them tumble from Kurt’s soft lips. He works with determination, glancing up when a hand tangles in Blaine’s hair. Kurt has begun to thrust into the warmth of his mouth, his head tipped back against the wall and veins standing out in his neck as his jaw clenched. Blaine lowers his glance and traces patterns with his tongue, braving the slight drag of his teeth on Kurt’s delicate skin. At that, Kurt’s hand tightens in Blaine’s hair enough to hurt and the echoing gasp rings out as Kurt pulls hard on Blaine’s curls until he backs off.

When Blaine looks up, spit on his lips and a guilty look in his eyes, he is surprised to see that Kurt’s face does not hold anger or pain. What he sees instead are dark, hooded eyes glancing down and a heaving chest accompanying the ragged breaths. Kurt closes his eyes, growls out, “Get on the bed.” Blaine blinks and freezes on his knees, unsure. Kurt swallows and now his face was set. “That wasn’t a request. That was a command.”

Blaine feels the blood slow in his body, his throat going dry immediately. He is getting dizzy, clears his throat, and wipes his mouth on his sleeve as he slowly rises.  
“Yes, Sir.” The words tumble from Blaine’s mouth and it’s surprising enough that it seems to take both of them aback. Blaine’s eyes widen and his mouth snaps shut. Kurt’s cock throbs at the breathy words, spoken so naturally, and he feels his chest start to heave with how fast he’s breathing.

Blaine pauses a moment longer, then walks to the bed under Kurt’s watchful gaze. He turns on his knees, Kurt close behind him and he’s being shoved backwards, flat on his back, his nightgown pulled up in a rush of breath and fabric. Kurt takes Blaine in his mouth and all thought is blocked from his brain as the only words coming to his lips is oh my god. Kurt licks, sucks, teases his tongue in varying speeds and Blaine’s hands fly to Kurt’s hair, gripping tightly as Kurt had done earlier. Kurt draws low moans from Blaine’s mouth when he pauses for a second to suck his finger. Blaine barely has time to open his eyes before Kurt is gently working Blaine’s tight muscles to get him to relax. Kurt’s mouth on his cock sends ripples of pleasure through him, enough to dull the pain from Kurt’s finger. And when his body does relax, when Kurt’s movements make his moans louder, he carefully adds another, slowing to allow him to adjust. He fucks Blaine with gentle determination, his fingers crooking up as he pulls off Blaine’s throbbing cock to watch his face. His eyes are squeezed shut, mouth open slightly, panting. 

“Take your gown off,” Kurt instructs in a voice that’s low but stern. Blaine opens his eyes blearily—Kurt hasn’t stopped moving his fingers. He brings his arms up to gather the gown, lifting his hips and pulls it halfway off when he suddenly groans aloud, Kurt’s name whining from his lips. He stills his hand. “All the way off.”

Blaine quickly complies, his breath shaky. When Blaine is naked in front of him, Kurt sits up on his knees, moving his fingers faster as he leans forward to suck a nipple into his mouth, making Blaine’s head push back into the pillow and his breaths turn to a groan. Kurt presses a feverish kiss to Blaine’s lips before pulling back and stroking himself with his other hand, removing his fingers with care. “Switch with me.” He can’t stop the needing crack in his words.

Blaine’s head lifts, a momentary pause and then he does so. He watches as Kurt lays down and takes Blaine’s place. Blaine begins to back up, lowering his head, but Kurt catches his forehead in his hand. “No,” he said softly. “Let me fuck you.”

The breath stills in his throat. He nods, unable to think of anything to say. So Kurt beckons him forward, adjusts Blaine’s knees at his sides, and pulls him in for another kiss. Their lips are soft, warm, kiss-swollen, and Blaine finds his mind going blank, his ears ringing, as what seems to happen when he kisses Kurt this way.  
Eventually, Kurt reaches around Blaine’s thigh, fingers dancing on his golden skin, and pushes Blaine’s hips up. He cups Blaine’s face with his other hand, thumb stroking on his cheek and whispers, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Blaine swallows, nodding again. He trusts Kurt. 

“Are you ready?” Kurt holds Blaine’s gaze, and neither man looks away until Blaine replies with a quick, “Yes.” 

Kurt grasps himself with one hand, the other moving gently down Blaine’s back to the full curve of his ass and guiding him down.

The air stills, their low breaths the only noise in the room that now seems too silent. Kurt guides Blaine, pushes in slowly. He makes soft sounds, Kurt breathing with him and reminding him to relax, to go at his own pace. When his ears prick at noises that sound pained, Kurt uses one hand to stroke him, drawing those beautiful moans once more. The shocks of pleasure help Blaine relax, and he sinks down farther, taking Kurt inch by inch with every increasing stroke. When Blaine’s body settles to fit entirely with Kurt’s, he lets his eyes slip closed. “Kurt,” he whispers, voice low. “I can… feel you.” Kurt feels it too, pushes his head back with his teeth digging into his lower lip, his cock throbbing inside of Blaine, the tight muscles just barely giving. “Do you want me to—“

“No.” Blaine lets out a long breath, then moves his hands to Kurt’s chest to plant them firmly and he begins to move, lifting up and dropping down in a slow, rhythmic pattern.  
His fingers tighten on Blaine’s hips, his head pushing back harder into the pillows because Blaine feels so, so good. It’s incredible, and he didn’t expect this much from Blaine so fast. “Fuck,” he groans aloud, already shaking and the pressure of Blaine’s muscles is just—

“Ah, ah.” Blaine is picking up the speed, his own hard cock rocking between them as he fucks himself against Kurt.

Kurt forces his eyes to open, push past the haze of oh god that feels so good please go faster. He grips Blaine’s thighs, asks him to stop. Blaine’s eyes widen. “What… what did I do? Was—“

Kurt swallows and shakes his head with a smile because him doing anything wrong was so far from the truth, and he breaks his composure for a moment with a breathy answer. “Nothing. You feel so good.” He pulls him in for a long kiss, slowly nudging Blaine’s hips up and he gasps when Kurt pulls all the way out. “Get on your back.”

Blaine doesn’t hesitate to comply, and they switch places once more. Kurt’s hands roam over his skin, flushed and needing and spread out just for him. Kurt has never seen a man so beautiful in his life. He blinks to bring himself back to this moment, then leans over him, glancing down so he can adjust to bring them closer together. He pushes in slowly, though Blaine’s body accepts him more willingly this time. The soft sigh from Blaine causes him to thrust slowly and then the resounding huffs and groans make him rock down faster. He fucks Blaine hard, his mind going blank, and the pent up anger and the pain at hiding his feelings and the euphoria at finally having this moment with the man he loves is almost too much. Kurt’s at a deeper angle, his fingers grasping at Blaine’s hips and his movements quick and jerking. The moans tumble readily from Blaine’s lips where his face is pressed into Kurt’s neck and dance in the air with Kurt’s panting. The muscles in Blaine’s arms ripple as he pulls Kurt closer, his hand moving between them to work himself until he’s shaking. Kurt lets out a strained moan, digging his nails into Blaine’s lower back when he comes, the release sudden and wonderful. Blood roars in Blaine’s ears, his shorts breaths making him dizzy, but he hears Kurt let go and feels the swell and rush inside him, the gripping and pulling of flushed skin, and he’s coming too, thrusting through it into his palm and not caring that now their skin is sticky.

He’s trembling, heart flittering so fast with the swell of his chest and before he realizes it, Kurt is laying next to him, reaching out and guiding Blaine down to wrap in his arms. Blaine’s eyes slip closed as he focuses on breathing and the warmth of Kurt’s body. The smell of sex is strong in the air, the scent trickling into Kurt’s mind enough that he reaches for the soft cloth beside the bed to wipe himself off with. He shifts and folds the cloth over, softly cleaning Blaine off as well. “Are you okay?” Kurt’s voice is soft in the low light, his words trickling in like warm wine. Blaine tilts his head; he must have been quiet too long. 

“I—“ He stops himself before he can say love you, chokes back the words he wants to say so badly. Instead, he settles on: “Please don’t go.”

Kurt’s eyes soften. He bites his lip. “I don’t want to,” he whispers back, but Blaine knows by his tone that this won’t end the way they want. “But me staying does nothing but hurt both of us. You know that. It won’t work.” He pauses, his words pained. “No matter how much we want it to.”

“Not tomorrow. Not then. Not that soon.” Blaine presses a hand to Kurt’s cheek, eyes searching his with a begging ferocity in his glance. “Please.” He feels Kurt’s lips against his forehead and he swallows hard. 

“Not tomorrow,” Kurt finally agrees. “But soon.”

Blaine nods against Kurt’s cheek. That’s all he can hope for. That’s the best scenario he can expect to get, but he closes his eyes tightly, then kisses Kurt again, feverish and needing now that a deadline has been planted in his heart. Kurt kisses back hungrily, knowing his time with Blaine is limited, but being here in this moment with the man he loves is worth everything he knows he’ll have to give up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel theme spoilers: battle, mpreg, death


End file.
